


Your Highness

by headoverhook



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headoverhook/pseuds/headoverhook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enchanted Forest AU. She met him on one of her morning rides, falling in love with him at first sight. She wanted to spend her life with him, but circumstances forbid her to follow her heart. After all she was a princess. And he a pirate. My present for my Secret Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Highness

**This one-shot totally ran away from me. It got way longer than I intended. But I loved writing it.  
**

**Merry Christmas, everyone!**

* * *

The only time she felt really free was the one hour each morning she spent on Thunder, riding over the fields as if the devil was after her. She hardly met anyone at this time of the day, and the ones who saw her didn't even shake their heads anymore. They knew the princess liked to ride like this. Reckless and like a man. She refused to ride side saddle when she was out alone, and her parents had given up on trying to persuade her a long time ago.

It was the only time she forgot about her duties, forgot that she was promised to Prince Graham, forgot that she was to be married to a complete stranger in twelve months.

The fog was still clinging to the ground, the wind letting her hair flatter behind her, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned forward, whispering into Thunder's ear to go even faster.

The fog suddenly lifted in front of her, and she jerked back. For one second she thought the devil himself had come for her, her heart slamming into her throat as she yanked Thunder back, but then the fog cleared even more and she saw not the devil, but a man.

A man that was taking her breath away.

She only saw his profile, his chiseled jaw and dark hair, tousled by the wind. He was clad in leather from head to toe, a long leather coat swinging over his legs, and then he shifted his arm and her eyes fell on the metallic glint where his hand should be.

A hook.

He had a hook for a hand.

He turned around then, their eyes meeting, and she froze. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. His eyes were holding her hostage, his gaze shooting shivers down her spine. His mouth curled up into a lopsided smirk, and he tilted his head slightly, knocking the breath out of her. She heard the cluck of his tongue, saw his leg shifting, and then he was gone.

-/-

Two months passed, and each day she hoped she would see him again. But she never did.

She had made some inquiries though, hoping no one would get suspicious about her sudden interest, but so far no one seemed to notice. He was a pirate, captain of a ship called the Jolly Roger, and even though she knew making contact with him was out of the question she just couldn't forget about him.

Until she went on the market one day, and saw a ship sailing close to the coast line. It was too far away to make out anything, but she shaded her eyes from the sun and watched it sail by.

"Whose ship is this?" Emma asked curiously, a strange feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as she kept watching the ship.

"Don't you see the crimson flag, your highness? It's a pirate ship." The market woman replied. "Rumors have it that its captain has a hook as a hand."

"It's Captain Hook's ship?" Emma whispered, his name causing her stomach to flip. "The Jolly Roger?"

"How do you know of him?"

"I've heard rumors."

"You do well to stay away from him, your highness. He never makes port here. Only in San Anton. Stay clear of there for a while."

"Of course."

Emma turned back to the ocean, seeing only a white shimmer as the ship disappeared out of her view.

She would do anything but stay away. She needed to see him again.

-/-

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she brushed her fingers over the dress she was wearing, contemplating for the umpteenth time if she had really lost her mind now.

She was standing in front of a tavern she shouldn't be anywhere near, not to mention the man that was inside. But maybe she had been doomed from the moment she saw him. Maybe he was the devil in human disguise, here to entrap her and pull her down to hell with him.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her head from those ridiculous thoughts. She was way past the age where she believed in tales that were supposed to scare children.

Anticipation coiled in her stomach, and she pressed a hand against her chest, almost feeling the fluttering of her heart. What she had in mind was insanity. Pure insanity.

But she wanted to know. She wanted to meet him. She wanted him to be her first.

"He is a pirate, Emma. A man without finesse, and you want to give your virginity to him?" she whispered into the darkness, trying to keep herself from probably making the biggest mistake of her life.

He was a pirate, and she was a princess, and if he found out he would probably hold her for ransom, or worse. Give her to his crew for their amusement.

She had heard the stories, but they still couldn't keep her away from him. His eyes, something in his eyes had told her he wasn't like anyone else. He wasn't a ruthless pirate. He was more.

Taking in a deep breath, she reached for the handle with a shaking hand and entered the tavern.

She saw him immediately, sitting at a table in the corner, playing dice with a few men, a gorgeous brunette sitting beside him, and she almost lost her nerves. But then he looked up, and their eyes met over the crowd. One heartbeat, and recognition swept over his features. His gaze never left her as he said something to his men she couldn't understand over the noise of the crowd, and a moment later he was standing by her side, his hand closing around hers and pulling her to a quiet corner, his body bumping into hers as he pushed her down on the bench and sat down beside her.

He eyed her for a few moments, making her shift nervously under the scrutiny before he finally spoke, "What is such a fine lady like you doing in a tavern like this?"

"I am not a fine lady," she replied quickly, heat flashing up in her cheeks as his piercing gaze swept over her.

"You might fool everyone else in here, love." He scooted closer, his knee brushing against hers as he leaned forward. "But you can't fool me."

Her eyes dropped to his hook, and she lifted her hand, her fingers trailing over the metal.

"Does it matter what I am?" she whispered. "Isn't it of more importance why I am here?"

"And why are you here, love?"

She looked back up at him again, the smirk on his face shooting a warm heat through her body. She could leave. This was her last chance. She knew he wouldn't follow her. Could see it in his eyes that he would let her leave if her courage would vanish. But she just inhaled a deep breath, her fingers curling around the cold metal of his hook.

"Because of you."

He didn't say anything, his hand reaching for her cheek and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, making her heart almost gallop out of her chest.

"You want to spend the night with me?" She hadn't expected him to be so forthright, but after all it was exactly what she wanted, and she just nodded, unable to form any words. "Then let's go."

He led her up the stairs, his hand resting at the small of her back as he entered the room behind her. The click of the door made her jump, and she swirled around to him, asking herself for the umpteenth time why she was doing this.

He strolled towards her, his arm coming around her waist and pulling her against him, making her gasp as she felt his lean body pressing into hers.

"You are playing with fire, your highness." He rasped, and she jerked back, staring up at him with wide eyes. His mouth curled up into a smirk, and she thought she saw regret flash over his eyes before he pushed her away. "Yes, I know who you are."

"But you never said anything."

"Because I wanted to see how far you would go with your ruse. Wouldn't have thought you would take it that far, to be honest. Coming up with me into my room, actually wanting to be ravished by a pirate captain." She stumbled backwards, and his smirk turned into a cocky grin as he leaned against the wall, and folded his arms over his chest. "Ahh, now you are afraid. You should be, love."

"I am not afraid," she said, hating that her voice wobbled and her hands trembled.

"Go home, princess." He pushed away from the wall, and her heart skipped a beat as he walked slowly towards her. "I like my women well rounded, and very well-versed when it comes to their skills in bed. You are clearly neither, and I am not gonna waste my time with you. Not to mention risk the wrath of royalty because I deflowered their precious daughter."

"They wouldn't find out. I promise."

"You don't belong here, love." He opened the door, and turned around. One of his eyebrows cocked up, and he grinned at her as he waved with his hook. "Get out of here before my crew decides she wants to have fun with you too."

-/-

She had left him, not courageous enough to stay. But she came back two weeks later, intend to not lose her courage this time.

His eyes were blazing fire as he pushed her against the wall, the planks vibrating as her back hit the wood.

"Emma, what are you doing here?"

Her name coming out of his mouth shocked her. But only for a second before a smile tugged her lips upwards. He knew her name.

"You promised me one night with you, remember?" she said with a cockiness in her voice she didn't know she was capable of.

"You are a bloody vixen, princess," he growled, pressing his hands on either side of her head, caging her in.

"Should I start the rumor that Captain Hook doesn't stand to his words?" She knew he wanted to scare her away again, but this time she wouldn't let him, and she raised her chin defiantly, not backing away in the slightest. "It would ruin your reputation if I tell everyone that you aren't the ruthless pirate you want everyone to believe you are."

"And what makes you so sure I am not?"

"You didn't take me," she said, pressing her head against the wood to look him in the eyes. He was so close. "Even when I wanted you to."

"I am not interested in virgins," he replied, pushing himself away from her. "I told you that the last time."

"But I want you."

"Believe me, princess," he drawled, patting the flap of his pants. "I am too well equipped to make your first time comfortable. It would hurt. A lot."

"I am not afraid of the pain," Emma whispered, her eyes glued to the obvious bulge in his pants. She might be a virgin, but she still knew what that meant.

"You should be."

Her eyes snapped back to his, and she gulped hard as she saw the glimmer of lust in his eyes.

"But I am not."

"You sure you want to do this." He walked back to her, his fingers trailing along the hem of her dress, his palm brushing against her breast.

"I thought you are a pirate."

"Just remember you asked for it."

She expected it to be rough. That it would be over in a few minutes. But he took his time, and she was melting away under his talented mouth and fingers.

First he started with long kisses, his tongue coaxing her to explore for herself. His fingers slipped under her bodice, teasing her nipples until they were hard and aching for more before he helped her out of her clothes. Slowly, ever so slowly. Her whole body was humming, his heated gaze making her forget all her fears as he laid her out on the bed, and climbed in after her.

He was still fully clothed, and she wondered if he would even take his clothes off when he started to trail open-mouthed kisses along her neck and down over her chest, her breath hitching in her throat as he reached her breasts. But he didn't stop there, scooting even lower until his head was between her spread legs, his mouth only inches away from her core.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me, Emma. You will like it."

She had no reason to trust him. He was a pirate after all. But she still did. Her breath whooshing out of her on a long moan as he slipped one finger into her, a gasp escaping her as he leaned down and she felt his tongue flickering over her.

She had heard of this. But didn't believe it to be true. Believed the tales of the kitchen maids were just that. Tales.

But Gods, she never wanted him to stop doing what he was doing, the sensations he elicited just too exquisite.

She didn't know it would be like that, her whole body exploding as his fingers curled inside of her, and she was still breathing hard when he pushed her legs apart and settled between them.

She hadn't even noticed that he had gotten rid of his clothes, her hands trailing down over his spine, his arousal pressing against her opening, and she stiffened as he pushed slowly forward.

"Gods, love. Your are so bloody tight," he gritted out through clenched teeth, his jaw flexing as he obviously fought for control. "I can't ... I don't want to hurt you."

"Please take me. Make me yours." She trusted him, not knowing where this trust came from, but she opened her legs even more, hoping to make it easier for him, her hands resting on his buttocks as she breathed, "You'll never forget your first, right?"

"Bloody hell."

His arms shook as he leaned down on his elbows, his hips rocking back and forth slowly, easing himself deeper and deeper until he hit her barrier, and with one hard plunge he buried himself in her, a gasp escaping her as a sharp pain shot through her. But it was almost instantly gone, and she stared up at him with wide eyes. Not in her wildest dreams did she think she would feel like this.

So full. Stretched to her limits.

"You okay, love?"

He didn't move, waiting for her to say something, and her heart went out to him. He might show the world his ruthless pirate persona, but here, behind closed doors, he was a gentleman.

"Yes, I am okay," she whispered, shifting under him.

"I'll be gentle."

And he was. Taking her on another high with slow and deep thrusts before she felt him slipping out of her to spurt his release on her stomach.

He cleaned her gently afterwards, and she watched him, stunned by the tenderness of his movements.

"This was ..." she breathed, her heart still hammering in her chest as she let her fingers ghost over the hair on his chest.

"A one time thing," he replied, standing up and reaching for his clothes.

She felt a pang of regret, her eyes staying on his naked body until he hid it from her view. She wouldn't have minded a repeat performance.

-/-

She thought she would never see him again. But one day he was back, meeting her in the forest while she was riding out, and they fell into each other's arms without questions.

Most of the times it was a wild coupling in the forests, her dress pulled down to give him access to her breasts, her skirts thrown up, his fingers frantic and desperate between her legs and then their simultaneous groans when he pushed into her.

Or one stolen night when his crew was at port, and she met him in his cabin. Her body was scattered with marks afterwards, marks of their frantic love making all over the Captain's quarters.

But then their morning meetings turned from wild sex into hours of just talking to each other. About their lives, their pasts. He told her about his brother and how he had lost him. About his first love Milah, who had been killed by the husband she had left behind, the same man that had taken his hand. She told him about her life as a princess. How she felt imprisoned by all the etiquette, the obligations.

She had just wanted to experience what being desired felt liked. Falling in love hadn't been part of her plan. It just happened.

She just hoped he didn't feel the same way. Because she didn't want to break his heart the way her heart had broken when she had realized that it was over. That she had to send him away. That she had to stop seeing him.

She had lived on borrowed time. Time that had come to an end.

"I will get married in four weeks," she burst out, and he froze, his fingers curled around the hem of his pants he had just pulled up over his hips.

"We both knew it wouldn't last," he replied, his voice void of any emotions. But when he looked up the look in his eyes made her stumble back a few steps. "But I have to admit … you've been a good fuck, your highness."

"Killian, please." She reached out to him, wanted to pull him into her arms, wanted to erase the look of hurt she'd seen in his eyes. But she knew there was no point in prolonging the inevitable. She couldn't stay. She couldn't be with him. "I'm … I'm sorry."

"For what?" he snapped, shoving his feet into his boots, not even looking at her as he reached for his coat. He was at the door with two strides, only looking back at her when his hand curled around the door knob. "You're a princess, and I'm a pirate. You wanted to have some good romps in the hay before marrying some stuffy man who won't know how to satisfy you. Understandable that you wanted to be thoroughly fucked to remember how it could be."

"Killian?"

"I'll be on my way then. It was my pleasure, princess. Have a great life."

He stormed out of the room, and slammed the door shut behind him. She just stared at the door for a few minutes, completely numb. But then the reality of what just happened slammed into her, and she slid to the ground, hugging her legs to her chest as the sobs tore through her throat, and she wept her heart out, mourning the loss of the only man she would ever truly love.

-/-

_Five years later_

"Emma, I never asked you because you clearly didn't want to talk about it, and it is none of my business. You are a grown woman after all, but I always wondered."

"Wondered about what?" Emma asked her mother absentmindedly, her eyes following Liam.

"Who Liam's father is."

Her head snapped around to her mother, her heart leaping into her throat. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Her mother was eyeing her for a few moments, her fingers closing around Emma's hand as she asked softly, "Do you still love him?"

"I ..." She wanted to deny it, wanted to tell her mother that Graham was Liam's father. That there had never been another man. But somehow she couldn't, and her shoulders slumped as she murmured, "Yes, I do. I do still love him."

"Then why did you marry Graham, darling?" Her mother's soft voice brought tears to her eyes, and she inhaled a deep breath, pressing her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. "Why didn't you tell us? We would have never let you marry him when we would have known that you are in love with someone else."

"Because it didn't matter. It still doesn't," she said resolutely, gulping hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. "We can never be together. It's just not possible. Even if I would ever see him again. But he is gone. For good. He told me he would never come back."

They watched Liam for a while, and Emma already thought her mother wouldn't broach the subject again as her soft voice reached her ear.

"He looks like his father, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Emma breathed, tears welling up in her eyes again as she watched Liam racing over the lawn, the stable boy running after him and trying to catch him. "He looks exactly like him."

"I am sorry, Emma."

"Sorry for what?"

"That you are reminded of your lost love every day. That the pain will never dull only a little bit because Liam will always be a living reminder of the man you love."

"You don't have to be sorry. I ... somehow having Liam ... it helps. Without him I probably would have thought it all a dream, but he is living proof that I didn't imagine Kil... him. He was real. Still is. Somewhere."

Her eyes flickered to the ocean, the familiar sadness settling in the pit of her stomach.

"He is a man of the ocean then?" her mother asked softly.

"Yes, he is."

"Should your father try to find him?"

"No, mother. He ..." She trailed off, contemplating if she should say anything else. But she knew she had already said too much. She couldn't stop now. "He is a pirate. I should have never gone near him, but I did. And fell in love. But that doesn't change the fact that I am a princess, and princesses don't marry pirates."

"If you weren't a princess would you have married him? Would you have joined him on his ship?"

"Yes," Emma said quietly, her heart aching in her chest. "If I weren't shackled to obligations I would have run away with him."

-/-

"Are you Captain Hook?"

He thought his appendage would make such a question obsolete. But apparently not. He looked up at the man who had addressed him, noticing even though his mind was numbed with alcohol that the man standing before him was royalty. He had spent too much time with royalty in his youth to not recognize it immediately.

"Who is asking?"

"King Charming from the Enchanted Forest."

Killian's eyes narrowed as he looked closer at the man. If he was king of the Enchanted Forest than he must be Emma's father.

"You know my daughter Emma, right?"

Killian contemplated for a brief moment to deny it. But the king had apparently gone to great lengths to find him, and knew already that he had made acquaintances with his daughter without Killian's conformation. There was no point in lying.

"Aye, I do."

"I have only one question then, Captain."

"Ask away," Killian waved his hook and leaned back against the wall, trying to act nonchalant, though his heart was galloping in his chest.

"Do you love her?"

"Pardon me?"

"It's an easy question, Captain Hook." The king was watching him with sincere scrutiny, not even wavering a little bit as he repeated the question. "Do you love my daughter?"

Love her?

Gods, the woman had driven him insane. He still could remember every single moment he had spent with her, all this time ago. Could still remember the first time he saw her. Riding like a madwoman over the field, her golden hair billowing out behind her. Could still remember when her green eyes met his for the first time. He bloody hell could remember everything, and it had tortured him for months, made him wake up soaked in sweat, his heart hammering in his chest, and an ache settling in his stomach that never went away.

Even after all those years he still hadn't forgotten her.

He could deny it. Could just say no, and send the king on his way. But he couldn't. He bloody hell just couldn't. Letting out a mumbled expletive, he stood up from the bench, expecting a punch from the king when he admitted to loving his daughter.

"Yes," he said firmly, shifting on his feet to get a better stand to not immediately tumble over when the king's fist hit him. "I do."

-/-

Another ball. Another event she had to show up with a happy expression on her face. It was the first ball her parents told her she needed to attend after Graham's accident. But the first six months of mourning were over, and it was expected for royalty to show themselves in public again after this amount of time.

She smoothed the gloves over her hands, a smile pulling her lips up as Liam raced into the room and crashed against her knees.

"Mama, up!"

She crouched down and pressed a kiss on her son's forehead. "You should already be in bed, young man."

"You look pretty," Liam told her, patting her cheek with his still chubby hand, his blue eyes wide as he stared at her. Blue eyes that was so similar to his father's that sudden tears pricked her eyes.

"Sorry, your highness," her maid rushed in, completely out of breath. "He ran away from me."

"Of course he did," Emma sighed and shook her head. "Our little prince loves to sneak out, doesn't he?"

Liam just grinned at her, the smile also reminding her of his father, and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Would she ever be able to think of him without feeling as if her heart was ripped apart?

"Give your old mother a kiss, pumpkin, and then you will go straight back to bed."

Liam pressed a wet kiss on her cheek, leaning his head against the maid's shoulder when she scooped him up. "Good night, Mama. Love you."

"I love you too, sunshine." She pressed a last kiss on his forehead and smoothed his hair back. "Sweet dreams."

-/-

The heat in the ballroom was excruciating, and she contemplated to sneak on the balcony and take a stroll in the gardens to cool down as she suddenly felt someone step behind her.

"Your highness, may I have this dance?"

She couldn't turn around, the voice freezing her to the spot. She knew that voice.

But it couldn't be. He couldn't be here.

"Love?" His voice was too close, his lips nearly brushing her ear. "You can't refuse to dance with me after all this time."

She swirled around, expecting to see a stranger, expecting she had just imagined his voice because she missed him so much. But he was standing right in front of her. As handsome as ever.

"What are you doing here?" she croaked out, her eyes flying over him, and her brows furrowed as she noticed the uniform he was wearing. "What are you wearing?"

"Shouldn't you be familiar with the colors of your own navy, princess?"

"I … we … how … why?" she stuttered, not able to utter more than single words, and he just grinned at her, her heart skipping a beat when his mouth curled up into this lopsided grin she missed so much.

The music started and he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, sweeping her over the dance floor. Just now she realized that he wasn't wearing his hook, her hand curled around a fake hand, and she tightened her grip around his shoulder, still thinking this must all be a dream.

"I am real, love," he breathed into her ear, and she shivered, his lilting voice eliciting a fire deep inside of her.

"Why are you here?" she asked again, leaning back into his arms to meet his gaze.

"Your father came to me," he replied softly, his fingers splaying out over the small of her back as he swirled her around. "Asked me a question, and offered me a position in your navy after I answered to his satisfaction."

"What question?"

"If I was in love with his daughter."

She stiffened in his arms, but he just kept swirling her around as if he hadn't said anything of importance.

"And what did you tell him?" she questioned slightly breathless.

"What do you think, princess?"

"I asked first, pirate."

"I'm not a pirate anymore."

"What did you say?"

"I told him yes."

Emma stumbled over her own feet, and Killian's arm tightened around her. She could hardly breathe, his confession making her dizzy, and she didn't notice that he was leading them out of the ballroom until the sudden coolness made her tremble.

They stopped at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the moonlight casting shadows over his face as she looked up at him.

"I love you, Emma." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and her knees almost gave out under her. "I fell in love with you the moment I met you."

"Killian?" She lifted her hand, skimming her fingers over his scruff. She still couldn't quite believe that he was really here, and not a figment of her imagination.

"Aye, love."

"I love you too."

"I know."

-/-

"Mama?"

They had just stepped back into the ballroom, and she swirled around, crouching down automatically and catching her son in her arms.

"Liam, what are you doing still up? Did you sneak out again?"

Standing up slowly with Liam in her arms, she looked up at Killian's face. She could see the shock on his face, his eyes glued to Liam, and she wondered if he saw not only himself in their son but also his brother.

He didn't need to say anything, she could see the question clearly written all over his face when his eyes met hers, and for a moment she contemplated not telling him just yet. But then she saw the flicker of longing in his gaze, and she only nodded.

"Mine?" he asked with a hoarse voice.

"Yes," she said softly. "Yours."

They didn't have time for any explanations, she just introduced Killian to her son as an old friend and tightened her fingers around Killian's hand to pull him with her as she walked back to Liam's room to put him to bed.

She would not let him run away from her again. Shock or not.

She put Liam to bed, aware of Killian waiting in the shadows until Liam had fallen asleep, and she brushed her lips over Liam's cheek before she straightened and walked towards Killian.

"We need to talk."

She grasped his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, pulling him out on the balcony.

They talked for hours, not letting go of each other the whole time, as if they feared the other might disappear if they didn't touch. He had shrugged out of his uniform jacket at some point, spreading it over her shoulders to keep her warm, and she had snuggled deeper into his embrace.

When the sky started to brighten she slipped out of his arms and walked to the balustrade. Staring out over the gardens, she inhaled the crisp morning air, feeling more alive than she had felt in years.

His arms came around her waist, pulling her back into his embrace, and she let out a soft sigh.

"You are not going to push me away again, are you?" he whispered against her ear.

"No," she murmured, placing her hands on his arms and leaning back against his shoulder as the horizon started to change color. "I will never let you go again."


End file.
